


Eyes and Souls

by ugleest27



Category: Undertale
Genre: Abuse, Angst, F/M, more tags added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ugleest27/pseuds/ugleest27
Summary: You've been Frisk's sole guardian for about three years now. After CPS became involved in your previous living situation, the court allowed you to care for your younger brother as you both recovered from past trauma. You climb the mountain often, always careful to teach your blind little brother the trails carefully. It's an escape for the both of you.Until, one day you fall.In a new world, the powers you and Frisk have hidden from humans for years are explained to you. It's a dangerous world underground though, you never know who to trust and you just have to go with your gut reaction. You can only hope the skeleton is telling the truth and doesn't turn on you, like the flower.hey alrighty I know no one is really into undertale anymore but I really like writing this, things will probably be changed since I have no real writing skills and what even is plot. I would really appreciate suggestions and feedback, thanks.





	1. Fall

I don’t think there is anything in the world that can ruin this day.

The sun is high in the sky, almost noon. My little brother is sitting across from me under the shade of a fir tree. His small round face is in a rare smile, and it’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen. The blue sleeves of the sweater I made for him are pushed up to his elbows, exposing the lighter brown skin of his arms. His boney hands are wrapped around a slice of watermelon bigger than his head. The juice has dribbled down his chin and is smeared on his cheeks. His eyes are closed. Behind those lids are the same narrow eyes I have, but his pupils are so blown out and the capillaries in his cornea have bled so much that his eyes appear pitch black. Every time I see those eyes the chains on my memories shake, but not even that could ruin today. I start humming and Frisk’s smile grows. He sets down the watermelon.

Sing for me? He signs, looking eager. I laugh lightly and roll my eyes; he’s taking advantage of my good mood. I ruffle his dark mop of brown hair.

“What do you want me to sing?” I ask gently. I’d never been an amazing singer, but he and I had sung a lot when we were younger. After he stopped making any noise, I started singing more. It felt sometimes like I was trying to sing for us both.

Frisk thought for a moment, his brow furrowing and his mouth twisting to the side. Sunflower? He asks, looking even more hopeful. Should’ve known.

“Of course.” I say before starting to quietly sing. This song isn’t the usual style Frisk and I listen to but it really cheers Frisk up, even if it’s just my shitty rendition of it. He heaves the massive slice of watermelon back up and attacks it once more. His face is upturned, like he’s trying to see the sun through his eyelids. He then swivels to face up the mountain and gets the same wistful look on his face that he always gets when we hike up here. It’s a beautiful meadow that I discovered hidden off a trail up Mt. Ebbott. It’s as high up as I allow Frisk to hike, he’s an intelligent kid but he’s also blind and seems to forget that at times. He would beg me like I’ve never seen him beg to let him go to the top. His puppy dog eyes almost broke me but I have always held firm.

Today’s a good day though. I feel energetic, I know the trail up most of the way. . . If he stays with me, what’s the harm in hiking to the top? I stand quickly and grab my hiking back pack, we can leave our picnic until we get back. Frisk swivels to look at me again, surprised by the sudden movement. “Wanna try getting to the top?” I ask excitedly. His face lights up and he nearly throws the watermelon in his haste to get to his long, black walking stick. He stumbles over to me and hugs me quickly around the waist in thanks, smearing watermelon juice all over my sweatshirt. I giggle and try to wipe some of it off as he rushes towards the trail.

“Wait up!” I call, shaking my head. I should have known that we were going to hike this trail to the top sooner or later. Frisk is the most stubborn child I have ever met. It’s almost uncanny, when he decides he wants something he gets it. It’s like the universe makes exceptions for him. I wouldn’t be surprised if it grew into something bigger as he gets older. I know my abilities did.  
I’m shook out of my thoughts when I realize Frisk has gotten ahead of me. I can’t see him anymore. I frown as I pick up my pace, trying to suppress my worry. I have a tendency to overreact when I think Frisk is in trouble, so I try to cool down and reason with myself.

“Frisk. . .?” I call, the worry still obvious in my tone.

. . .

Silence.

The panic is less like a flood, and more like a valve breaking under pressure. It’s starts slow, the quickening of my heartbeat and the sweat of my palms. The valve bursts quickly as the silence continues, and heart pounding in my ears I sprint up the path. I knew he couldn’t call back, but my voice carries and he should have heard me. I should be able to hear him trying to find his way, I’m straining as I run to hear the thwack of his walking stick against trees or even the shuffling of leaves as he runs back to find why I called.

But nobody came.

Something’s wrong. Frisk doesn’t play pranks like this. He would have come back. I’m horrified as I realize that I’m still not entirely sure what’s at the top of the mountain. What if the ground’s unstable or something’s up there? I break into a full sprint, nails digging crescents into the straps of my backpack and heels digging for traction in the ground. My eyes are wide and tearing up, my vision is blurred from adrenaline. “Frisk!” I shriek, trying to not cry when the silence besides my running stretches on. I sprint through the last bit of trail and reach the clearing at the top of the mountain.

In the center of a bare stretch of dirt and gravel is a huge hole. It looked like God brought down some huge ass cookie cutter on top of the mountain. To miss that you would have to be. . . blind. . . The worst part was that at the edge of the abyss was a long, black stick. Frisk’s stick.

“FRISK!” I scream, rushing to the edge of the pit. The depth is dizzying, I can’t see the bottom but I can see Frisk hanging on desperately to a jutting shelf in the rock. His knuckles are white and his expression is one of confused terror. I grab his walking stick and slam it into a crack in the rock just under the lip of the hole. I drop my weight onto it, praying it would hold as I swing out over the pit. It holds, and I plant my feet against the wall. I release with one hand and reach desperately for Frisk. So close yet so far.

“Come on sweetheart, grab my hand, I’m right here, please Frisk!” I beg, words and vision garbled by desperation and tears. Frisk tries to pull himself up but he’s not strong enough. His face hardens into a mask of pure determination and he throws his hand up blindly to try and grab mine. I’m too high though, and my arms are too short. Our fingers brush, but I can’t grasp them. His hand falls.  
Frisk is hanging by only one hand now and I can hear his frantic panting. His fingers try to dig into the rock but it’s no use. He slips.

He falls backwards and it’s like time slows. His expression goes from one of terror to resignation and his hair flies almost artfully around his face. A beam of sunlight lights his path into the darkness, shadowing his oversized striped sweater. That stupid sweater. I spent so much time on that thing, you can tell from the dropped stitches and uneven stripes that I was learning as I made it. I cried so many nights over it, used it as a distraction so many painful nights, and Frisk never complained about how long it was taking me to make it. He also never took it off once it was done. The beam of sunlight also highlights his hand, showing the bones even more pronounced while even as he accepts his fate, he reaches for me. His sister, his only caretaker. Even at the end he’s reaching for my hand. I only denied him that once and I promised never again.

I don’t think anything else as I let go of Frisk’s walking stick. I dive, arms outstretched as I fall faster and faster, until I collide with my brother. I clutch him to my chest as the fall continues, my stomach churning and tears flying from my cheeks.

Frisk’s dark eyes snap open, his face confused and then somehow more horrified than before. He opens his mouth in a silent scream as I flip us so I’m facing the opening, my back to the ground. I can only hope that I will break Frisk’s fall. I remember my promise to him but there’s no other choice. I reach out with my being until I can feel Frisk’s. I push into his being everything I have, my strength, my muscle, my health. At least the last time using my abilities would be for good. I shake violently and gasp in pain as the strength leaves my body and lead weights replace my muscles. Frisk feels the rush of strength and realizes what I’m doing. His face contorts in a way I’ve never seen it do before and he tries to push me away and stop me. I let out a horrifying noise through my gritted teeth, more animal than human as I struggle to hug him tighter with the last bits of my strength and kiss the top of his head. Pain floods my entire being, and I open my mouth to say I lo-

We hit the ground.

I slam into the ground, and first the air leaves my lungs, then I feel my bones bend starting in my back, then snap. I bounce up again, my arms hanging limply and Frisk flying from them. I hit again and the snap in my back, ribs, and hips grows.

Everything is pain. My body is all wrong angles and the world is all red as my mouth opens and more red spews out. I try not to move but my body twitches uncontrollably, I hear terrible gurgling gasps and I realize they’re coming from me. The twitching starts to subside though and I lose feeling in my legs. I don’t mind it though, at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. Breathing starts to become more of a nuisance, it takes so much work and just causes mind numbing pains through my ribs. My vision starts to fade at the edges. Breathing hurts, I should stop. . . Just for a moment. . .  
Desperate hands clutch my face and fingers try to pry my eyes open. A light burning starts in my lungs but it’s nothing compared to my ribs when I breathe. . . Liquid gets pooled in my throat and I’m forced to cough to get it out. My eyes flutter at the splitting pain and I see Frisk. He’s the one clutching my face, still silently screaming, digging his nails into my face like he can keep me there by sheer force of will. I did it. He’s alive and looks unharmed. A contorted smile comes across my face, for some reason this makes him start crying harder. A wave of tiredness washes over me, and the last thing I see before I lose consciousness is Frisk whipping around to take a somewhat pathetic defensive stance over me.

Dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little short, just trying to get the exposition down. the description of the void the reader experiences in death is based on what I remember anesthesia feeling like. thanks.

This feels like sleeping, but colder and more hollow. Sleeping is natural, drifting off into a warm deep brown. This is nothing like that. It’s darker, more of a disturbing blue-black that feels like it’s so empty it echoes. Time exists, but there’s no way to track it. It’s not smothering, but the pure hollowness is so imposing that I feel like I couldn’t move if I tried. 

A beat passes. 

Waking up is just as unnatural as that empty void was. It’s like my entire body was given an electric shock and jolted my being back inside my body. The change from complete lack of sensation to groggy, panicked awareness is intense, I gasp and try to lurch upright. Small hands try to push me down but I can’t focus because I’m bound. Writhing vines are around my body, squeezing and popping different parts of my body. I don’t feel any pain, but they’re trapping me and forcing me down. I can’t get enough air, I need to sit up. 

“Stop- please stop let me- I can’t breathe stop it-” I gasp out in a high pitched voice. The sound is muffled and warbled. 

“Whoa there, calm down! Gosh, you save someone’s life and they go psycho on you as thanks...” A voice says from off to the side. My head lolls, I try to catch my breath. Someone is clutching my hand, I try to turn my head to look but I’m so dizzy and moving makes my vision blur. I feel tears leak from my eyes, I don’t think this terrible panic will ever end. I wish I would die than have to experience this any longer. 

Painfully slowly, the panic fades. The vines are loosening and laying my limp body on the ground. I can feel myself trembling and all I want to do is sleep. Small hands grab my face and a forehead presses to mine. Almost instinctively, I reach out to feel my brother’s familiar being overflowing with strength, a lot of it my own. I latch on and feel my strength flow back into my body. I stop as soon as the strength starts to feel foreign. 

I inhale, sitting up. The trembling has ceased already and my mind clears. I open my eyes and the first thing I see is Frisk. He looks terrible. One of his hands is feeling my face, but his eyes are open, the dark black searching for something. The skin around his eyes is puffy and red, his upper lip is blotchy in the same way it is when he goes on a crying gag. Tears are still streaming down his face, and his shoulders are hunched as he waits anxiously. Breath hisses through my teeth, I remember the fall. I jolt towards him, looking for blood or bruises, but he looks fine except for a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his arm. I take his arm and reach out with my being to try and take his injuries. He leaps to his feet. 

No how could you?! He signs frantically. You promised you wouldn’t do that, you promised, you died, you were gone, you, you...” His hand gestures dissolve into frantic open palm gestures towards me. Tears well up in my eyes and I wrap my arms around him, shushing his silent sobs. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, my hoarse voice cracking. His legs start to fold and I sink to the ground again with him, petting his hair as he cries.

“How sweet!” A sarcastic voice echoes through the area. My head shoots up and my arms tighten around Frisk. I get my first real look at our surroundings. A single column of light comes from far above and illuminates the cavern. The walls are tall and menacing, they look like a steep cliffside that go up to a hole in the ceiling that must be at least a mile up. In juxtaposition to the intimidating walls is the meadow Frisk and I are kneeling in. It’s covered in yellow flowers, I can’t tell what type they are. They look like the most basic yellow flowers, with five petals on each and a big white center. I scan the cavern, looking for whoever spoke, but I see no one. I start scanning the flowers and jump when I see a figure. 

Vines are forcing themselves back into the ground, sliding back into the deep brown dirt it appears they pulled themselves up from. On top of the vines is a flower. It looks the same as the other nondescript flowers, but it has a face. 

A fucking. Face. 

The vines finish retreating into the soil, leaving the somewhat innocent flower-being sitting upon the mound of churned earth. It is smiling, but it looks nervous. As if a flower could look nervous...   
“The... what...” I stutter, trying to create a coherent thought. The flower’s face darkens, yet it smiles. 

“Howdy! My name is Flowey, Flowey the flower.” The flower chirps. His voice is high pitched and screechy but his face definitely doesn’t match his friendly greeting. “Who are you?”   
Everything in me screams that this creature is dangerous and that I shouldn’t answer the question. I let the silence stretch and his face darkens. 

“Alright listen. The only reason you’re alive is because she said you were important, if she hadn’t forced me to heal you, I would’ve killed you on the spot. I’m gonna ask one more time, who the hell are you?” He growls, the ground writhing beneath him. 

I stand, pulling Frisk up with me, backing away from the plant. “I don’t know what you are but you better get away from my brother and I.” I say in a low, threatening tone of voice. Flowey just laughs.   
“You IDIOT.” He shrieks, the ground exploding as vines shoot from the earth and lift Flowey high. He leers at us, smirking as I take a defensive stance and push Frisk behind me. I just need to get solid contact with him for a moment. “DIE.” Flowey cries, and vines rush towards me. I blindly fling a hand out and slap a vine. I feel Flowey’s being and it is horrifying. Absolutely twisted and dark and pained. I grit my teeth and reach, leeching off of his seething strength and replacing it with my fear. 

Flowey’s face falters and the vines hesitate. He looks like he’s trying not to show his fear and failing. “What...” He’s cut off as flames light up the cavern. I dive and grab Frisk as literal fire balls come flying from the darkness but I had nothing to fear. They fly past us and hit Flowey instead. He screeches in surprise and pain before retreating into the ground, as if he had never been there before. 

“Ah, what a terrible creature, torturing these poor, innocent children...” A kind, motherly voice says from behind Frisk and I. I start to turn and see a hand reaching out, taking Frisk’s hand and helping him up but the hand is huge and covered in white fur... My words die in my throat as the huge creature steps into the light and smiles at Frisk, towering over him possessively. 

“I am Toriel, Caretaker of the Ruins.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER SHORT ONE IM SORRY I know there are the typical excuses but truly I am super overworked right now. I'm gonna try to find a schedule I can work with but until school gets out I think chapters are just gonna come whenever I manage to spare some time.

My lips part but no sound comes out. Holding Frisk’s hand is a monster. It’s giant, at least two heads taller than I and covered in white fur. It’s obviously a she, and she’s wearing a long straight dress made of a deep purple satin cloth. The center panel is a lighter shade of purple and has symbols across her chest. Her face is best described as a goat turned slightly humanoid. She has a snout and horns, but her eyes are very human despite their almost fiery color. She’s... smiling? Maybe? 

Toriel continues speaking despite your prolonged staring. She hasn’t paid you much mind, she’s more focused on Frisk. It’s causing something to bubble in your chest. “I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down.” She says, and looks up at the light longingly. “You’re the first human. . . human’s, I suppose, to fall down here in a long time!” She says, seemingly looking at you for the first time. Her smile fades slightly and her eyes narrow suspiciously. You see her. . . paw(?) tighten around Frisk’s hand. Your mouth closes finally and your gaze hardens. 

“Let my brother go.” You say lowly, taking a step towards the goat-woman. She starts slightly. 

“You’re. . . his sister?” She asks curiously. I nod, shoulders tight from tension. The woman’s eyes seem to glaze over slightly, but she lets Frisk go. He stumbles a little, then reaches out to try and find you. You reach out and take his hand, pulling him under your arm. Toriel watches, and smiles nostalgically. “The bond between sister and brother. . . it is so beautiful. Did it lead you both down here?” She asks gravely. I nod. 

“Couldn’t just let him go.” I mumble, looking down at Frisk and stroking his hair. He leans into it, he looks so tired that he can’t bother being confused. I look up back to Toriel. “I don’t mean to be rude, but my brother needs to rest and so do I. Is there a way out of here, or a close place to rest?” I ask, smiling apologetically. Toriel doesn’t reciprocate my smile though and frowns. She thinks for a moment, then smiles lightly. 

“Of course, I will guide you through the catacombs. Come.” She walks into the darkness and you have to half run in order to keep up with her loping strides. You pass through a doorway you hadn’t seen before with Frisk in tow. You come into a beautiful stairway. It’s old and made of a purple brick that looks as though it has seen better days, but it’s still beautiful. You drop Frisk’s hand to inspect a placard beside the stairwell. Etched into the metal, it says “Only the fearless ones may proceed, brave and foolish ones, they walk not on the center.” You run your fingers across the engravings, wondering what they mean. You turn to get Frisk but stop. 

Frisk is kneeling in the pile of leaves in front of the stairs. He reaches his hand out hesitantly, then his eyes flutter open. It almost looks like he’s inspecting something. He reaches into thin air but appears to touch something with his finger. What the hell? 

“Frisk. . .?” You call quietly. Frisk jumps slightly and his eyes shut. He stands up, brushes some leaves off of himself and then uses the railing of the stair to find you. You take his hand. “What was that?” He shrugs quickly and then starts to pull you along impatiently. You frown but keep walking. Through the door at the top of the stairs stands Toriel, waiting for you. 

“Welcome to your new home, innocent ones.” She says kindly, gazing around at the old stone hallway. Wait, home? You weren’t planning on staying here for long. You feel dizzy when you try to process everything that has happened and the fact that you are trapped in this place but you stop yourself. You just try not to think about it, you can fall apart later. You come back to reality and realize that Toriel has flipped a switch on the wall and it has opened up the pathway. She’s saying something about puzzles, you probably should’ve been listening. Toriel is already walking through to the next room and you follow. 

It goes on like this for a while. Toriel will give you a new “test” in every room, until finally at one room she pauses and turns back to you. 

“I must attend to some business, you must stay here for a while. It’s dangerous to go alone.” She says, smiling apologetically before lighting up. “I have an idea! I will give you a cell phone. If you need anything, just call.” She says and hands the phone to Frisk. He immediately opens it and tries to feel if the buttons have braille. 

“Thank you.” You say, smiling gently. Toriel has been kind, though you aren’t sure why. Kindness always has a motivation though, and you’re not sure you want to know hers. She smiles back, nods, and leaves the room. 

You had the complete intentions at first of staying in that room, but staying still was giving you time to think and you knew you couldn’t break down now. So when Frisk bolted for the next door, you didn’t put up much of a fight and followed. The next few rooms were a blur to you. Everything felt like it was catching up to you at once. You barely even noticed when a frog-like monster challenged you to a fight. You declined wearily, startled slightly by the same flying bullets you had seen Flowey wield but you simply dodged and persisted until he gave up. 

Frisk continues through the rooms and the fog of your brain thickens. This exhaustion is unparalleled to anything you’ve experienced before. You stumble at one point and Frisk notices your struggle. He puts his hand in yours and continues pulling you from room to room, puzzle to puzzle. You knew you had to hold on for just a bit longer, you couldn’t pass out here and leave Frisk on his own to fend for himself. But you are only human and you are on the brink of collapse when you finally stop walking. You hear a faint motherly voice filled with concern. You can’t even muster up the energy to respond, so when you are lifted and wrapped in a warm fluffy embrace, you don’t resist at all and fall asleep. 

Dark.


End file.
